


make dessert

by hito_ritabi



Series: NTN [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dessert, M/M, preparation for a meal, sweet gesture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 04:24:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2494325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hito_ritabi/pseuds/hito_ritabi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: a wicker basket, banana-cream pie</p>
            </blockquote>





	make dessert

Feeling like nothing was better than cooking on a warm winter morning, Crow hovered around the kitchen, pouring a cup of mixed milk and a hardy wood tea. He sliced the banana-cream pie carefully, plopping it as delicately as possible off of the serving spoon onto a fancy plate. Inwardly he thought, you people and your fancy-dancy plates, now I gotta make sure it landed right in the middle of the design.

 

Hovering over the plate to check, and double-check, that the pie was in a satisfying location, Crow nodded when he was pleased with the landing. He sliced up another piece, and more or less attempted to make it land in a similar way on the second plate, although he took much less care in it's placing. The pie landed, a bit of filling falling off to the side, and instead of mending it with a knife, he just stuck a piece of chocolate on the pile. He looked at the first plate, tilting his head, then dropped two pieces on that plate and another on his. Using a grater, he grated flecks of chocolate over the tops of both slices.

 

Then he hurried over to the fridge and pulled out a tray of strawberries. He picked the best looking ones and took them over to the cutting board where he inspected them further. He found the best looking ones, placing three on the nicer plate, and three on the other plate.

 

“Mmm, oh right,” he mused to himself and headed toward the pantry- a large room with shelves lining all of the walls and two filling the middle. It took a bit of navigation for him to find a piece of ginger root buried in a wicker basket next to some potatoes. He returned to the kitchen, stepping back in once more to grab a glass jar that red 'nutmeg' in all capitals.

 

Back at his pies, Crow grated the ginger over them, and then carefully sprinkled the nutmeg on just the strawberries. He tilted his head, looking over the plate. “Is it missing something?” He asked the empty kitchen. No servants, chefs, cooks or anyone else was likely to be even within ear-shot of the place at 3am. The baker didn't even come in to start making the loaf of fresh bread for the day until four so it was ready by breakfast.

 

Crow looked at the steaming tea, wondering if that was the culprit of his questioning finality of the dish.

 

The thought occurred to him suddenly, “Oh oh, juice!” He dashed quickly toward the refrigerator, yanked open the door and began to look through for something that looked appealing. “Mango, orange, grape, apple... Cranberry? Ew.” He stuck out his tongue, imagining the earl grey tea infused with milk and cranberry flavors. “This'll do,” he said, pulling out a small jar of grape juice, and then the large pitcher of apple juice.

 

He added only a teaspoon of grape juice to each tea, then a tablespoon of apple juice, and then returned the cool containers to their places. Once he was back at the counter, he pulled out a silver serving tray, and laid out a blue-and-white woven mat. He placed each plate down and then eased down the cups.

 

“Wait a minute,” he mumbled to himself. Turning to the cabinet above, he grabbed out two flat saucers and stuck one under each glass. “There we go.” He stared at the plate. “Chocolate, strawberries, pie, tea.” He counted off aloud, wondering if saying it aloud would cue him to anything he missed.

 

Not thinking of it however, Crow reached for the handles of the tray. As soon as his fingers touched the metal, one hand jerked up and he snapped. “Napkins!” He looked around, then circled the kitchen. Not finding any, he just grabbed two white towels, slung them over his left forearm and lifted up the tray. “Dessert is served~” He sung to himself in a sneaky seductive tone as he headed out of the kitchen's door, and made his way up the grand staircase to Will's bedroom.


End file.
